


Our Bed

by Pens



Series: Gallavich Mornings [9]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, mini getting back together fic, post 5.12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:58:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pens/pseuds/Pens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey can’t explain how he knows, but he knows, he can feel it like a fucking seventh sense or some shit - always has been able to.</p><p>“There room for me?”<br/>-<br/>One way or another, it’s going to be alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Bed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iansthugmuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iansthugmuffin/gifts).



> Who's sad? Because I'm sad.  
> Based a few weeks, maybe a month-ish, after the final.
> 
> Technically set in the morning.

It’s 3am and Mickey’s lying in bed, trying to sleep. It's not working.

It’s been like this for weeks now - since Ian broke up with him.

He can’t stop thinking about his expression, the sound of his voice, the look on his face every time they see each other in the streets.

He looks as broken as Mickey feels.

Mickey doesn’t know what to think, what to expect: will Ian come back to him? Should he get out there and fight for him? Should he stand back and give him space? Mickey knows fuck all about feelings and relationships – ex relationships – and what to do with them, he usually just goes with what feels right. But nothing feels right anymore. All he knows is that he wants, _needs_ Ian.

He wants Ian to be happy, he wants him to be healthy, he wants him by his side, medicated, and smiling at him and at his family. Mickey wants Ian to know how fucking _much_ he loves him, no matter what, he loves him and Mickey’s pretty sure he will always love Ian Gallagher.

Moonlight is streaming in from the curtains Mickey didn't bother to close. It's not helping him sleep, but Mickey could care less at this point.

 

The door creaks on its hinges and Mickey can hear the groan of the floorboards as someone enters his room. He’s not in the mood for Iggy right now, Jesus Christ.

Except that it’s not Iggy. Mickey can’t explain how he knows, but he knows, he can feel it like a fucking seventh sense or some shit. Always has been able to. 

“There room for me?”

It’s said timidly, unsure, and Mickey turns around to see Ian standing next to his bed, looking vulnerable, but also sure and determined and a little like the Ian Mickey first fell in love with all those years ago. 

“There’s always room for you,” he shifts over onto his back, making room, and pulls the covers back as Ian makes quick to take off his jacket and crawl in - settling close, but not close enough. Mickey brings the blankets up around Ian's shoulders before settling his hand back by his side. He's not sure if he's allowed to touch Ian right now, as desperately as he wants to.

Ian takes a breath, as if he’s mustering up some courage, before shuffling a little closer and Mickey’s heart picks up its pace the closer he gets. He’s close, almost as close as they used to sleep when this was _their_ bed. He shuffles closer.

Mickey thinks his heart might have stopped when Ian gingerly slides his arm around his waist and buries his face into his shoulder, boldly throwing a leg over Mickey's. Mickey breathes in deep and, after a moment, wraps his arms around Ian too, turning and burying his face into that red hair he missed do goddamn much. He sighs.

Mickey feels tired and and he’s not sure what’s happening right now, but he thinks this is Ian’s way of saying ' _I’m sorry, I want you back, I need you, I can’t do this alone after all.'_  He kisses Ian’s hair. _I'’m here. I’m yours._ Fuck _, I'm all yours.'_ In sickness and in health and all that crap, yeah?

Ian mumbles something from where his face is pressed in Mickey's shoulder, "...What was that...mumbles?"

Ian moves his head slightly so Mickey can hear him this time, “I said we need to talk in the morning.” Mickey knows, they need to talk – and actually talk this time. Work things out properly.

But that's in the morning. For now, he hums and hugs Ian closer, finally - _finally_ starting to drift off. Ian is in his – no, _their_ \- bed and Mickey doesn’t really know what’s going to happen when they wake up, but he knows it’s going to be alright.

One way or another, it’s going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still in writer's block and I'm stressed about assessments, so excuse me if this is awful - but I needed to write /something/  
> Come cry with me on [tumblr](http://www.grumpyvich.tumblr.com)!


End file.
